Just a Dream
by Bouquet of Dead Flowers
Summary: Faust has a terrible nightmare about Eliza's death and wakes up to find comfort in his beloved wife's embrace. But was it really just a dream?


"Oh, Eliza, Eliza, _Eliza_... I love you so, _so_ much..."

Feathery touches of soft pale lips, loving and gentle, all over Eliza's delicate fingers. Faust was kissing his wife's hands like frenzied. As though they hadn't seen each other for ages, even if all the time they were apart was just a couple of hours of sleep. Eliza could only smile at her husband in confusion and worry as he kept covering her pale hands in kisses, pressing his lips to every single finger separately, paying special attention to each.

"It was just a dream, Johann," she whispered with a soft chuckle.

The sound of her gentle laugh was soothing to the man, as well as the sight of her thin lips stretched into a loving smile and her blue eyes that gazed at him with affection. She was there, she was there right in front of him, she was with him. It made his stomach flutter a little. But when she tried to pull her hands away he held them tighter, still gentle but stubborn. As though afraid that as soon as he let go, she'd disappear like a mere mirage.

"But it looked very real," Faust protested softly yet as insistently, finally stopping showering his wife's hands in kisses. His blue eyes looked up to meet the same azure colour of her eyes. It wasn't for nothing that some said they were like brother and sister and even confused them for those, especially when they were kids.

Eliza gently coaxed Faust to let her go and then dove her hands into his blond hair, the same light colour as hers. Even in this darkness, in the dim light of the table lamp the woman could see fear and worry in her husband's look. Her own eyes reflected that emotion as she pressed a kiss to his forehead. Faust sighed, closing his eyes.

"I was so scared..."

"Tell me about it," Eliza whispered, embracing the other gently and pulling him closer, trying to make him relax.

Faust let her do that as she hugged him and they lay together with the man resting his head on his wife's shoulder. He was silent for a few moments, going over his nightmare all over again and trying to remember the details and trying to decide how to start. But it was simple really.

"You were gone," he muttered.

"Gone?"

"Gone," he repeated. Sensing that it didn't clear Eliza's confusion, the man sighed again. "Dead. You died there."

Eliza's thin fingers, that had been tenderly stroking Faust's hair, paused for a moment. She then continued her soothing actions. "How?"

"I... I don't know. I'm not sure. I think someone shot you." He swallowed. Just the mere memory of the nightmare made his mouth go dry and throat tighten. Hesitation and sadness were clear in his voice. "It was very real. Way too real."

"Johann..."

"I was scared." Faust lifted his head to look at his wife's face. "I thought you left me."

Eliza smiled and cupped his cheeks. "I would never leave you, silly."

"But we never know what the next day may bring."

"It was just a dream."

"I still can't shake this feeling off."

"You were screaming." Faust blinked. Eliza's expression got more serious and somewhat sad. She lowered her gaze, the long eyelashes fluttering gently against her pale skin, just as pale as Faust's. "So I know."

"So that's why you woke up..." Eliza bit her lower lip and nodded. Faust sighed. "I'm sorry."

"And then I woke you." Eliza kissed her husband's forehead again. Her gentle smile was back. "Darling, let's not dwell on it, alright? I'm with you. I'll always be with you. Nothing like your dream would ever happen, and not in a place like that for sure. So let's sleep, alright?"

Faust still couldn't get rid of his anxiety, but he decided to give in and agree. He smiled back to reassure his wife. "Yes. Let's sleep."

She was tired, he understood. His nightmare had bothered both of them. It was unfair to his beloved Eliza, she deserved to get rest. Actually, both of them did. They had a lot of work to do the next day. Several new clients that needed their attention. Some of the old ones that still needed more tending. It couldn't be ignored.

Limbs entangled and goodnight kisses exchanged, they lay back together to drift off to sleep... peaceful sleep this time.

A peaceful couple in a peaceful place. With the love between them one can only dream of, so very happy, having all they ever wished for even if those were very simple things.

_Like a fairy tale._

The colours danced. The colours merged and faded. The peace shattered, the broken parts stung the eyes. It was unreal, and all of this was falling _down_.

And Faust, he sat up with a start.

Cold air clung to the hot skin, cooling it down. His skin was wet, and hair was wet too, the blond locks sticking to the sweaty skin. The man greedily inhaled the stuffy air of the room again and again, never feeling like there was enough air in his lungs. His breathing was hard and heavy, and at first his eyes couldn't adjust to the darkness so he felt lost in his surroundings.

Soon Faust's eyes could make out the blurry and hazy shapes. It didn't take long for him to realize what happened. He touched his eyes and he found them wet.

He'd fallen asleep at his working desk again. Surrounded by books and candles because in such an old and dark place there wasn't even any electricity and he really wasn't concerned enough about this kind of things to take care of it. All he was worried about was research. It consumed all his time and energy.

He had to rummage around a bit to find matchsticks and light yet another candle that lit up this cold and lonely place.

Lonely. That's the right word.

He'd been lonely for a long time already.

These dreams had been recurring. Especially the closer he got to that fateful day.

The day of Eliza's death.

The closer that day came, the worse Faust's dreams got. First it would be just some regular happy days from his past life with the love of his life. Then this day when he had that dream that was like a sign and probably it very much was but they ignored it... no. _He_ ignored it. It was _his_ dream. It was a warning given to _him_. _He_ was responsible for that.

He was responsible for Eliza's death. He ignored it and he lost her.

Faust had never forgiven himself. He _couldn't_.

Then the dreams would get worse. Because then he would dream of that very day she'd died. Again. And again. Repeating. Recurring. Going through it and living it all over again. And it would never end.

And never was he ready for these dreams and even memories. Just mere thoughts could send him into agony. It was unbearable, too painful. It burned his very soul as though in punishment. As though he was paying for his _mistake_.

Time wasn't healing. He'd just learnt how to deal with it but the pain was still as terrible.

He couldn't let go. He wouldn't let go. _Never_.

He had to fight for his love's soul. For his happiness that was taken away from him. For his reason to live. For their happiness, for their life they'd both lost on that day. Faust had died with Eliza. He wasn't really living anymore.

But this, this goal, this was now his new reason to live. He had to keep fighting, he had to get her back. He needed her and only _her_.

After spacing out for a few minutes and trying to shake off the terrible feeling the dream had brought to him, Faust looked around and at the table at the open books.

Apparently it was time to get back to work.

He still hadn't found the answer to his only question.


End file.
